


Working Out a Feeling

by Zen_monk



Series: Smoke and Mirrors [6]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Backstory, Battle Couple, Comedy, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Hanging Out, Male-Female Friendship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, Romantic Comedy, Teasing, personal headcanon is that kagero’s family is like the Addams family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-07-28 09:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16238819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zen_monk/pseuds/Zen_monk
Summary: Collection of dribbles featuring Kagero and Saizo in different stages of their relationship and just being intimate friends. Fleshing out canon backstory and world building, alongside going through their feelings.Day 1: Can you feel this?Day 2: People like you have no imagination.





	1. Day 1: Can you feel this?

**Author's Note:**

> Kagero and Saizo, unless stated in the works, are in their late teens.

Saizo woke up before dawn, no matter how tired his body was or how little he slept, and he immediately cursed himself. He had spent most of last night on a Faceless hunting party alongside Setsuna, Azama, and Oboro. He had a hell of a time fishing Setsuna out of traps- inexplicably not dying from them despite it being made by Yukimura specifically for piercing through a Faceless’ torso- and getting Azama to actually heal everyone in a way that they are actually fully healed.

“It’s actually much better for your body anyway to not heal all the way!” he said cheerfully, when he stood over Saizo with his staff and then merrily made his way to the next person before Saizo could struggle to stand up to strangle the monk. 

Oboro wasn’t so hard to keep on track, but her bloodthirstiness at the sight of the monstrous Nohrian abominations had sent her on a warpath that almost broke ranks with the squad. It was a battle in and of itself just to say to her demonic face that she cannot go off running for the next target, and all of his own willpower when she retorted that it was the pot calling the kettle black. 

It was an overall exhausting endeavor, and one where he would be pointed remarks in his report to Yukimura and Lord Ryoma, but acknowledging that they all worked together well when the team actually worked together to cull the horde. 

Saizo conducted the report all in his head while he stared up at the ceiling, prolonging the moment when he had to move his body. 

He squeezed his eyes and groaned.

“Ugggghhhhh…” 

He could still feel the spot where a Faceless brush its fist against his side when he dodged. The damned monk got through most of the internal injuries but left with sore bruises and muscle. 

Saizo rolled over, and grimly forced himself to start his day. 

*  
He stepped through the training hall slowly and deliberately, not wanting to overexert his still-tired body. When he rolled the door open, he saw that Kagero was seated in the middle of the floor, her back straight and facing him, and obviously deep in contemplation. He sometimes hoped to catch her being lulled to sleep in her meditation or to be otherwise visibly weary, but he also admired the way that she maintains all expectations of professionalism for a ninja. 

Standing up straighter, he strode confidently to where she was, making all effort to mask his own weariness. 

“I heard it was a difficult night,” she murmured softly when he came round to her. 

Saizo stopped and looked down. Her eyes were still closed and her expression placid. 

“How’d you know?” he asked, without thinking. He already knew that Kagero was one who kept on top of things. 

Kagero opened her eyes, and he could see how alert and fresh her expression was, and envious thought that she must have slept very well. 

“I heard reports from scouts at Yukimura’s office, where we were at standby should the campaign turn south. I was glad it had not.” 

“Were you worried?” he asked, sitting down slowly opposite from her and forcing himself not to wince. He didn’t care if she caught notice of that. 

“I worried more that you would find our fellow retainers too much to handle, rather than the faceless.” Kagero gave a small, knowing smile, the slightest of expression that brought a good-natured gleam in her eyes. 

Saizo’s face darkened at the memory. “Don’t remind me,” he muttered ruefully. “I would have left Setsuna to rot in a pitfall if it weren’t for the fact she’s got a hawk’s eye in the dark.” 

“Indeed,” sighed Kagero, standing up. She walked around to him so she was behind his back. Saizo was too tired to think much of it, and let her be in his space. 

“Her innate talent for combat is a sight to behold; it seems to enhance her tendency to have a… unique personality,” she continued. 

Saizo snorted derisively. “Just be blunt about it and say she’s a weirdo.” 

His breath stilled when she placed her hands on his shoulders, and he tensed painfully at even the most casual of touch. 

“Does it hurt on your right side?” she asked, gently probing her fingers against his shoulder, his shoulder blades, and almost near his ribs. 

An unpleasant shiver coursed up his back, like static electricity upon a cat. Very few knew of how sensitive he was to another’s touch, that even a slight pressure on his body was ticklish, and Kagero damn well knew it. 

“How’d you guess?” He said through gritted teeth. 

“The way you were walking,” she replied simply, and she lightly placed her hands, fingers fanned out so each fingertip was a small pressure around his shoulder with her thumbs at the point between muscle and shoulder blade.

“Can you feel it here?” She then pressed down with her thumb. 

Saizo grimaced. “Yes.” It was sore before she pressed down, and he was more sore when she let up. 

Kagero moved up a different route. 

“Can you feel it…here?” 

Ow.

“…Yes,” he muttered. 

His scowl deepened. He almost had half a mind to make her stop if he weren’t curious on where she was going with what she was doing. This wasn’t the first time when she moved unbidden into his personal bubble to do something, like brushing off a leaf or holding onto him when he was injured. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he liked that Kagero felt comfortable enough to reach out to him physically when he would rather loudly tell people to back off. He also liked that maybe he can relax around her, too. 

Kagero paused in her searching, as though thinking about something. 

“Then how about… Here!” 

She swiftly pressed her thumb down in three different points around his shoulder blade, almost digging into the flesh, and he yelped out in pain. 

“Aaaaagh!” He cried out. He swiftly turned his head around to look behind him. “The hell are you-!”

He then closed his mouth. He could suddenly move his head around even though this morning it was all he could to just turn it to the right. Then warmth flushed through his shoulder and right arm, like blood flowing back into him, and he could feel one half of his face relax. 

Saizo moved his arm cautiously, rolling his shoulder in place. 

“Huh.” 

Kagero leaned back onto her seat. “How was that?” 

He rolled both his shoulders, feeling the difference that one have over the other. “Better. Thanks.” 

She shrugged. “I’ve been doing this for my parents since I was a child. First my grandparents taught me for them, and then applied it to my parents and elders alike.” 

Saizo quirked a corner of his mouth. “You got a lot of practice, then. My mother always said I do it too hard and would shoo me away if I tried it with her. Father liked to be tenderized, though.” 

“You should learn to adjust for others’ preferences.” 

He put his left hand on his shoulder to rub his thumb in circles on sore muscle as he rolled his shoulder in its socket. “Yeah, yeah…” 

Kagero stood up and motioned for him to do the same. 

“What?” He said when he was on his feet. 

She walked around him so she was behind once again. 

“It’s better not to think too much of what I’m doing next.” 

“Why?” He asked.

Before the question uttered from his lips, Kagero put her arms around his chest, just under his armpits, and lifted him up and bent him backwards. 

“Hurk!” He grunted, and his eyes bugged out when he felt his upper spine cracked audibly. 

Kagero put him down onto the floor again, and he wobbled uncertainly to gape at her. She laughed in his face. 

Saizo let an injured look cross his face.

“I-It must… have been a long time… since you were picked up!” She said between chuckles. 

“No!” He said defensively with a higher tone, then cleared his throat. “Ahem, no, of course not. Don’t be absurd, Kagero!” He replied in a normal tone. 

She only turned around in response to giggle behind her hand even harder, her shoulders trembling, and he sighed in frustration. 

He wouldn’t let her know that he can breathe much easier now.


	2. People Like You Have No Imagination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 of Fictober  
> “People like you have no imagination.” 
> 
> Saizo tries to deliver a message to Kagero’s family, the eccentric Yagyu clan. He always forget that they are not like anyone else...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like a mix between the Addams Family and Young Frankenstein.

The estate was described by local residents as “mysterious” or “gloomy.” The less-kind called it “creepy.” In Kagero’s incredibly objective opinion, her family estate should be described as austere and tasteful, with minimal ornateness that is neither gaudy nor plain, but timeless and without pretension. In fact, as she angrily punctuated in her diary whenever she caught word of someone happening to do business with her parents or members of her extended family, the fact that they show such biased perception reveal that people like them have no imagination.

 

She once vented such thoughts to Saizo and Orochi, who both nodded gravely and assured her of how rude people were being.

 

It was also in Saizo’s unvoiced, incredibly objective opinion that those people were not wrong, and those unvoiced opinions were brought to mind on this day when he had business with Kagero’s family.

 

Saizo stood before the gate of the estate, whose tiled roofs and wooden doors were colored black almost like soot, and lacquered to the point where it shone like obsidian. It was distinctive even in the artisan district where many people on her mother’s side of the family spent centuries as tradesman and artisans. It was objectively very well-wrought if it weren’t for the fact that it stuck out a little in the neighborhoods nearby which opted for the traditional gleaming red and gold motifs about their roof tiles. Some houses go so far as to have ornate wooden carvings of phoenixes and dragons and Pegasi to adorn their mantles, or for tall flowering trees to loom over the walls, boughs heavy with pink and white petals that snow upon the ground.

 

The trees in Kagero’s estate was of yew, long gifted from merchants in Cheve who introduced the saplings to the woodcarvers of her family. The local neighbors accuse it of being strange and foreign for trees, which Saizo thought hyperbolic if not for how strangely twisted their bark looked or the fact that the tree as a whole is poisonous. The yew grew behind the walls and loomed over the gate, like the bowed heads of a procession. 

 

Saizo grasped the door knocker and rapped sharply against the heavy wooden doors. The sound echoed throughout the courtyard beyond, an empty, startling, echoing sound.

 

He waited a few moments, the whistling wind his only company. He lifted his hand to knock again.

 

“You knocked?”

 

“Gah!”

 

Saizo jumped a step back and looked wildly around.

 

“Good reflexes, boy. I’m right here.”

 

He starred up at the door. The voice came from behind, deep and gravelly, and annoyingly playful.

 

“You blind in both eyes, boy? Down here!”

 

Saizo looked down and nearly flinched when he saw a pair of eyes looking up at him through a sliding peep hole near his knee. The eyes looked up wide, dark eyes almost swimming in a pool of white sclera, giving a very sinister look.

 

“State your business!” the voice behind the door rapped.

 

Quickly collecting himself, Saizo straightened and took out a thick scroll from his robe, which was nestled snugly behind his waist guard.

 

“I am Saizo the Fifth! I came to deliver a message from the royal palace,” he said, his voice clear and hopefully free from tension. “Master Yukimura requests specialized commissions from the head of the Yagyu clan and from the tradesman representatives of the Mochizuki clan. The details are in here.”

 

The pair of eyes give a lingering looks of appraisal at Saizo. Almost too long.Saizo was starting to feel pissed off.

 

“…Okay, give it here,” said the voice finally.

 

The man quickly slid the peephole shut, and a slot suddenly opened up in the middle of the door, intended for Saizo to slide the scroll in.

 

Saizo was incensed.

 

“I am to hand it over to him in person, and with a seal of confirmation!” he said hotly.

 

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence, and finally the slot closed shut and the peephole opened again.

 

“You passed the test, boy.”

 

The peephole slid shut and then the gate slowly opened inward towards the courtyard. Saizo stepped into the empty courtyard, the stones gleaming white under the afternoon sun. There was nothing before him, and when he looked around, he saw that there was bare ground, sand gardens on either side of the courtyard, and hot stones to greet him.

 

The door creaked closed behind him, and Saizo whirled around. He kept his gaze down, to the level where the pair of eyes were, but saw only large feet. Puzzled, he glanced up.

 

And up.

 

And up.

 

And was shocked to find those same pair of wide-eyes (still staring at him wide-eyed) looking down on him from a man possibly over seven feet tall.

 

The gatekeeper blinked slowly at him. His head was almost square-shaped, the effect heightened by how closely cropped his hair was to the scalp with a straight fringe upon a wide forehead. High cheek bones framed a gaunt face that looked almost skeletal, and the wide eyes, as though perpetually surprised or inspective or just plain intense, was framed by dark circles. The man’s lips were pale and reminded Saizo uncomfortably like a koi fish’s lips. He wore a simple black robe with geta sandals that did not, actually, contribute much to the overall height of this giant.

 

A slow smile crossed those fishy lips.

 

“You got bigger, Saizo!”

 

The fifth in his name felt his stomach turn.

 

“We’ve, uh, met before?”

 

The gatekeeper blinked owlishly, eyes still wide and piercing at him. He looked very much like a skull gazing back.

 

“Maybe not face-to-face,” he conceded.

 

Saizo quickly thought back to all the times he had visited Kagero at her family’s home to recall any memory where he had known the gatekeeper. Other memories override potential details, and it suddenly distressed him that he cannot recall any such occasion while the other clearly did. Maybe he might have written something in one of his diaries…

 

“Well let’s not keep Lord Yagyu waiting,” said the gatekeeper, and he strode towards the house. Saizo looked behind him at the gate, down to where the peephole was near to the ground, and gazed uncertainly back at the gatekeeper’s tall frame that would almost certainly reach above the gate’s height.

 

Saizo quickly reached to match the gatekeeper’s gait only to stop suddenly when the tall man whirled around to stare into his eyes.

 

“Where are my manners!” he said quickly, which greatly disturbed Saizo. “Since we never met face-to-face…”

 

The man suddenly bowed, a perfectly perpendicular bow that bent him crooked and nearly cracked Saizo’s head.

 

“My name is Oni.”

 

Oni’s enthusiasm was met with a blank stare.

 

Saizo repeated slowly. “…An-nie?”

 

One raised an objecting finger. “Oh no. On-ni. Like from ‘The Legend of Momotaro.’ I know what you’re thinking: why would someone’s parents name their child after some noble demon of beauteous proportions? Well, simply put, it is because I chose that name for myself!”

 

There was moment of gears clicking into place, before Saizo said indignantly, “Don’t you mean ‘ _o_ - _ni_?’”

 

Oni half-closed his eyes and said with a bemused smile. “Well, do people ever say to you ‘don’t you mean ‘Say-zo’?” he mocked, in a high-pitched tone.

 

Saizo grimaced in disgust. “Who would do that? No one would do that!”

 

“If you say so, Say-zo.”

 

* * *

 

 

Everywhere he walked, the hallways was shockingly covered in spiderwebs. The floor gleamed with nary a speck of dust- most likely for Toshi’s benefit- but corners and rafters overhead was thick with cobwebs and dewy spiderwebs casting thin shadows amidst the afternoon light.It brought a sudden sense of deja vu that twitched in the back of his mind, and an unpleasant one at that.

 

Oni led the way, his head hunched by the shoulders to avoid dragging his head against the ceiling and get tangled in the cobwebs. Saizo was reminded of stories he heard from his childhood of oni leading lost travelers to their lair, lurching through dense thicket that entrap the victims.

 

“…You must be so busy, Oni,” said Saizo, taking care to pronounce his name correctly. “Surely some other servant can tend to me in a waiting room, or… just leave me in a waiting room.”

 

Oni peered over his shoulder, a single large eye staring balefully as they walked, and said, “Oh, you’re definitely lucky that I’m leading you. You ought to know better than to wander about in a shinobi’s house without proper guidance. Why, just imagine the traps you might set off…”

 

Saizo scoffed. “If that were said by any other person, I would have taken that as a challenge.”

 

“Ah yes, itching for a fight, this fifth Saizo. Never changed since you were four years old.”

 

Saizo paused in his gait. “Wait, I met you when I was four?”

 

A noise suddenly caught his attention, so faint that he almost disregarded it.

 

“…-lo…?”

 

Saizo looked wildly around. The sound seemed to come from everywhere, even though it was so faint. He waited for it, concentrating and honing his hearing like how his father taught him.

 

Scratch. Scratch.

 

A short shiver coursed through his spine, and he resisted the impulse to unsheathe his knife. That sound was definitely coming from the wall next to him in the corridor.

 

Scratch.

 

Saizo cautiously raised his hand and rapped his knuckles against the wall. It sounded reasonably solid, but that was an expected decoy from a shinobi’s house.

 

The wall very faintly knocked back.

 

“…help…?”

 

With both hands on the wall now, Saizo felt around the wall for a groove or an edge hidden in the wood. His fingers barely caught on one, and he sought to sink his fingernails into it.

 

A small click was heard.

 

The hidden door suddenly snapped open, and Saizo nearly jumped out of his skin when a frail man fell forward, clothed in white and with a white scarf around his head.

 

“Uwaaa!” He cried out, and he had his arms open to catch the falling body.

 

Saizo staggered back, caught unawares by the new weight in his arms. The man’s head landed on his chest as the whole person slouched against the ninja.

 

The head then looked up, revealing a gaunt face, with dark circles under his eyes, half-covered by disheveled jet-black hair that hung like string.

 

“Thank…you…” gasped the man.

 

Saizo promptly dropped him.

 

Oni suddenly appeared at his side, as though he had never left.

 

“Well, well, so that’s where Master Toshi was. Now we don’t need to worry Kagero by sending that letter.”

 

* * *

 

 

Mitsutoshi Yagyu, known between friends and family as ‘’Toshi,” was last seen yesterday afternoon poring over documents and observing his personal project. Many had thought he retired early to his room, only to find that was not the case when breakfast was called early in the morning. The servants braved through many traps and passages, thinking he had set one off, and on the day that Saizo paid a visit they searched through the city.

 

“But now I’m perfectly safe, and so everyone can just relax now,” said Toshi cheerfully.

 

Saizo and Toshi were seated in his room after safely transplanting him from the floor of the corridor. After making sure that Saizo is free of any abrasive allergens, good particles, dust, and other minuscule material that may aggravate Toshi’s delicate lungs, Oni busied himself to straighten the room and summon food for the eldest child of the family.

 

Saizo looked back and forth between Toshi and Oni, the latter whom is giving detailed instructions for the servant on what kind of lunch to make, who was taking long notes.

 

“What in blazes were you doing in that death trap of a closet?” asked Saizo.

 

Toshi sipped on his hot water that was poured from a kettle that was placed a hibachi brazier.

 

“Oh, I was looking for Gumoko. I’ve been training her for a match that’s coming up, but somehow she just slipped out.”

 

“A match?” echoed Saizo. “You mean, for gambling?” He could barely picture Toshi having such an interest in such a seedy hobby, much less being outside of the estate at all.

 

“Indeed. Not for myself, although I do follow reports of insect wrestling. A cousin of mine requested Gumoko for his own devices.”

 

“Huh.” Within earshot, Oni was still giving instructions to the maidservant.

 

Saizo continued speaking. “So, what kind of beetle is Gumoko?” He wondered if it was a rhinoceros beetle, as its single horn could strike down any in a single blow.

 

“Well it’d be funny if I named a beetle ‘Gumoko,’” chuckled Toshi. “That would be some imaginative wordplay, though, for competitors. Gumoko would exactly be what you think it is.”

 

A memory suddenly struck down in his mind. “W-Wait, when you mean Gumoko…” began Saizo.

 

Toshi tended to the coals in the brazier with a pair of metal chopsticks. “That’s right, I’m talking about the large spider. Spider-fighting is not quite as popular around Shirasagi compared to where my cousin lives further out West. Oh, there she is right now!”

 

Toshi pointed the chopsticks to the right of Saizo.

 

Saizo turned to his right, hoping and expecting that what Toshi meant by “Oh, there he is right now!” with such a delighted smile on his face was his cousin.

 

Instead he was met with a very large black and yellow spider crawling up on his shoulder near his neck.

 

Saizo leapt up.

 

“AHHHHH!”

 

He hastily swatted his arm at his shoulder, and leapt away from where he pushed away Gumoko, nearly toppling into Oni who calmly side-stepped away from the guest.

 

“Oh, have no worry, Saizo,” said Toshi calmly, ignoring the outburst. “Spiders like Gumoko aren’t deadly to humans. In fact, some of my family use the spider bites in medicinal research.”

 

Gumoko, momentarily stunned from being forcibly removed from one place to the floor, staggered to her feet and made her way to Toshi’s outstretched palm.

 

“See?” said Toshi, holding the palm up to Saizo, who remained a healthy distance away. He grimaced at the sight of the spider crawling up Toshi’s arm as though the insect was capable of feeling affection and loyalty to a person. Saizo paled when the large insect crawled from the shoulder to around the back of Toshi’s head, who remained serene and amused at his expense.

 

“…As expected of Kagero’s brother, you are truly impressive in demeanor,” said Saizo, finally mustering some genial words.

 

Toshi turned to Oni and asked, “I am heartened that Saizo has found me in the nick of time, Oni. However, I do not wish to pull him away from his precious time.”

 

Having finally finished detailing instructions to the servant, Oni straightened his tall frame to almost full height, and turned around stiffly.

 

“Indeed, young lord. We were on our way to see your father. I shall tell him where you had been this whole time.”

 

Toshi beamed. “Well then, thank you for your time, Saizo. Please send my regards to my dear sister.”

 

Saizo felt a guilty sense of relief. He took a deep, steadying breath, relaxed his shoulders, and bowed.

 

“It was a pleasure to see you as well, Mitsutoshi.”

 

“Please, call me Toshi. If I may be presumptuous, I see you as a brother in our home.”

 

Cold sweat broke out, though Saizo made an effort to keep his expression as neutral as possible.

 

“Indeed… Toshi.”

 

* * *

 

The Yagyu Dojo was a modest building to the side of the estate away from the bustle and noise of the streets. The only sound in the air was haunting buzzing of cicadas in the heat of the summer. With white plaster walls and black tile roof, it was both austere and inconspicuous. Within its humble walls, Lord Yagyu taught the classics to young students, held exclusive meetings among select families that deal in business with the Yagyu, and ninjutsu training whose secrets never left the building.

 

Inside was an empty space, with polished wooden floors that gleamed like obsidian, and guarded with statues in the shape of monstrous mountain oni wielding heavy spiked clubs and holding human heads by their scalps. There was a large scroll in the center of the dais in the back of the dojo, with the character “Righteousness” in strong strokes.

 

In the dim light where the sun does not fully shine within the dojo in the late afternoon, Lord Yagyu stood with his back facing the door with a katana in hand. His head bowed, he was in deep concentration, still as a statue among the dust motes that swirled in the sun’s rays.

 

The wind blew, and the faint rustle of cloth was heard.

 

Yagyu whirled to slash his sword behind him. He held in position where his target had been, although there was nothing but air.

 

Behind him, a woman with loose, black hair stepped lightly on the wooden floor, her bare feet barely making a sound. In her hands was a naginata, the light catching the reflection of the blade as she pointed it downwards. Her left sleeve hung down from her arm, cut almost cleanly off, and dangled like a forlorn banner of a losing army.

 

She made her move, whirling the blade upwards toward the man intending to slash upward against his side.

 

Yagyu neatly rolled away, landing so he was face-to-face with the woman. When he straightened up to stand with his sword ready, his robe was sliced open revealing his chest and stomach. He placed his hand on his skin, lifting it to see any blood but saw none.

 

The woman looked at her handiwork, her chin raised and with sultry lashes lowered in appraisal.

 

“A moment longer and your entrails would have spilled across the floor, and black blood painted against the walls. It would have been tragically beautiful.”

 

Yagyu gave a roguish smile as he lifted his sword arm level to his head, the blade reflecting his expression so that it looked deranged upon the sword.

 

“This hall shall remain immaculate, as though none has ever entered here. And it shall remain as such with nary an outsider privy to such a lustful display.”

 

He lunged forward, his sword aiming her heart. She parried it cleanly, the sound of metal clashing like a bell. He was undeterred, and pursued his onslaught. His blows were all deflected, sparks flying, but she was brought back almost to the opposite wall. With a skillful parry, she spun away from his blows to leap to the side. In the momentary calm, shreds of cloth silently floated down to the floor. More of her body was revealed, her pale arms glowing in the room and the curve of her breast visible beneath her bindings from where the robe around her ribs were slashed.

 

Her expression remained serene, not caring for modesty or showing any vulnerability. What changed were her eyes, which burned deeply into Yagyu’s eyes.

 

She swung her naginata against Yagyu, who deflected her blows. There was more power with each swing, each blow made louder clanging sounds of steel against steel. She spun, and her momentum swung down against the sword and it flew away from his grip to slide across the floor.

 

Yagyu made for sword but pulled back when she calmly pointed her blade against his neck. He backed away slowly, the woman advancing towards him with the spear outstretched with the point almost touching skin. He hit the nearest wall, his eyes never leaving hers, and she walked ever closer while sliding her hand up the grip so that the point never pierced further against him.

 

“I finally have you in my grasp,” she purred, bringing her face close to his.

 

He breathed out a laugh, panting from the duel.

 

“Such brutality in the conquering,” he breathed, and made a lopsided smile. “What will you do now that I am in your clutches? Tear me asunder?”

 

The woman considered him, pointing the tip of her naginata up so that he had to turn his chin him with his whole neck exposed.

 

“Can you only conceive of destruction? People like you have no imagination,” she said softly.

 

“Like me?” Lord Yagyu asked, voice husky.

 

She placed a hand to his neck, and had her fingernails trail down gently over the skin to his clavicle.

 

“I could show you mercy now, and hold you gently in my grasp,” she said.

 

She moved her hand down over his bare chest, her eyes never leaving his.

 

“There is power in choosing between cruel intentions or noble kindness, but true power in holding that choice over others…”

 

A loud cough echoed through the dojo.

 

The spell was broken and both adults paused in their repartee. Oni made another throat-clearing cough near the entrance of the dojo, while Saizo stood next to him.

 

“Begging your pardon, Lord and Lady Yagyu,” he said. “The esteemed Saizo the Fifth requests an audience with Lord Yagyu.”

 

“Saizo!” cried Lord Yagyu cheerfully. He was still pinned by Lady Yagyu’s naginata but he broke eye contact to look at the two men at the entrance. “It’s been so long! I hope that our spar did not keep you waiting. We had not expected an audience for our spectacle.”

 

Oni waved his hand humbly. “Oh no, my lord, we have only just arrived! We should apologize for interrupting you.”

 

Saizo looked askance and muttered darkly, “We were here for five minutes.Five minutes of seeing too much…”

 

Lady Yagyu backed away to free her husband from her blade, and turned back to the dais where the stand rests for her weapon. Lord Yagyu made toward Saizo, oblivious of Saizo’s discomfort.

 

“It seems the time to indulge in pleasure is over; please Saizo, let us discuss business in the main house. Afterwards, I can show you my most recent poetry!”

 

Saizo bowed deeply in the lord of the estate’s presence. The thought of taking the time to listen to poetry rankled him, and tried hard not to show it. The last time he was roped into listening to Lord Yagyu’s poetry and how it is a dissertation on roles of martial arts and justice, he sat for three hours with nary a window of opportunity to politely leave. It was also at the time when Toshi was raising snakes that “had an independent spirit.”

 

“I am honored to be received in your house, Lord Yagyu. However, I must make haste back to the castle to attend to Lord Ryoma.”

 

Lord Yagyu regarded him warmly and nodded. “Ah yes, I expected nothing less of a Saizo’s dedication. Your father himself was so unwavering in his devotion. It is a value I instill within my children who carry on the traditions of my family.”

 

Saizo nodded in agreement. “I have witnessed such impeccable character within Kagero.”

 

Lady Yagyu turned from the dais after properly placing the weaponry upon it, and spoke towards Saizo.

 

“Tell our daughter to pay a visit sometime. She has taken on so many tasks for both Queen Mikoto and Lord Ryoma, and I fear that she may miss a painting exhibition from her second cousin.”

 

Saizo looked towards Lady Yagyu and nodded. “Yes, I shall relay that as soon as I return to the castle.”

 

Lady Yagyu smiled. “Our daughter sees much. That eye for hidden details, surely has helped you?”

 

Saizo looked nervously at both parents, unsure of what to say. “…Yes, it has.”

 

Lord Yagyu whirled around, as though struck from behind by Lady Yagyu, who did not but spoke cryptically. Saizo feared of what was to come.

 

“Darling,” he breathed. “You know how I feel when you spoke so eloquently in haiku.”

 

Saizo breathed a deep, calming breath, dreading what will happen next. _No_ , _this_ _happens_ _every_ _time_!

 

“You excite too easily, my dear Munetoshi,” cooed Lady Yagyu. “My turn-of-phrase has not captured the full scope of my feelings, as the frog in the well does when seeing the world above.”

 

Lord Yagyu rushed forward to clasp his wife’s hands in his. Saizo lowered his head and placed his palm on his forehead.

 

“My dear, my darling, what smooth reference of an idiom! Transforming its original meaning into an enhanced version of itself!”

 

Saizo turned away, groaning as Lord Yagyu would most certainly start shamelessly kissing Chiyome Yagyu’s hands and arms.

 

_I should have stayed with Toshi and his spiders._


End file.
